Chapter Eleven

Alice

"Why are you smirking?" I raise an eyebrow, slightly confused by his sudden reaction but he shakes his head, looking away—the smirk disappearing as soon as I asked. The way he gazes straight at the stars, as if he wishes to be up there. There is just something in his head but he chooses to hide that away from me, he thinks it would be better leaving me in the dark.

Both of his eyes sparkle as the stars shine brightly above us, knowing well enough that they might've already been dead but we didn't get the chance to see that yet. "Do you ever just want to disappear, Alice?"

His question causes me to frown. Why on earth would I want to disappear? I thought. There would be many reasons for me to plan my disappearance, run away without caring, live my life to the fullest and experience an adventure. Deep down, I'd like to admit how much I want that to happen; a life where I wouldn't have to think about responsibilities or duties, just freedom and fun.

"Countless times," I answer before sighing. "But, life is not that simple."

"Why can't it be?" He asks, looking at me. "This is our life. We decide how we want it to flow,"

I nod, "You're right but we'd be disappointing everyone. We can never be selfish when it comes to living our lives—it wouldn't be fair for others. My parents would be devastated and I would, maybe, live with guilt for the rest of my life. What do you think?"

He sighs, chuckling afterwards. "You make me remember how awful it was to be human,"

"Boo-hoo, lucky for you then. You must've lived your life to the fullest,"

Damon blinks, looking directly into my eyes.

Whenever he stares at me, I'd think he is trying to tell me a story. There is just something mesmerising by the way he gazes and it's truly confusing that I can never figure it out; even though I try my best to slowly dig his secrets. He is always good at trying to change topics, hiding away more than he has already shown. It's making me wonder if I'm crossing the line.

"Not yet. I haven't," He mutters.

"Why is that?" I ask.

"I've been alone, Alice." He clenches his jaw, looking into my eyes; for a second, I'd be a fool to think they have changed to black but it's starting to get really clear about how it used to be slightly lighter. "It's depressing, tiring and troubling. There is no other way for me to put it into words but I've been in pain for decades. I might as well kill myself if I go through for another one,"

I grab onto his hand, "Don't. I'm here,"

"You are. The moment I met you . . . things just changed,"

My cheeks heat up, knowing well they are flushing pink.

"You blush easily, do you know that?" He asks, placing his thumb under my chin.

His touch is as light as feather, it is as if he isn't even holding my face and everything feels like a dream but this is real. This is as real as it can get. Both of us are standing in front of one another, we are face to face and his warmth is comforting. Maybe, there is just something about werewolves, they don't exactly have the same body temperature as humans—he feels really warm, inviting me in for a snuggle.

"My biggest talent," I respond, sarcastically.

He laughs, "A really cute one."

Our eyes meet as we smile, letting our gazes tell a hidden story. If only, we are meant to be, wouldn't that be perfect? At this point, I want to know more about Damon . . . I want to always feel his touch . . . I want to hear his voice . . . I want to be comforted by his warmth and I want all of him. I keep wondering what it would feel like to lay on his chest, to hear his heartbeat, to kiss his lips again.

Even though we had only just met, it feels like I've known him forever. It feels as if I'm meant to meet him, we are somehow meant to be this close.

The thoughts wouldn't leave me alone, I'm just wondering and wondering about how perfect he would be in bed. How he would gently undress me, running his warm hands all over my body as soon as I'm bare, letting him trail soft kisses down the back of my spine and spank my bottom. How I'd be left to beg for more and surrender myself completely . . .

Those perfect lips. The way they kiss. It's tempting, it's addicting.

Oh my god. I'm clearly having dirty thoughts about him. I'm thinking of having him in my bed, letting him have his own ways with me. My heart feels like it's going to thump out of my chest as I blink, trying to remove any unnecessary thoughts but I can't help it—I wonder what it's like to be making love with him. I wonder what it's like to have him hold me, pull me close or being pushed onto the bed . . . hair pulled, body shaking with pleasure . . .oh!

"Alice?" He calls, interrupting me as I feel my legs growing weak. "Are you okay?"

I feel it. I really feel it in my core.

"I'm perfect. Completely perfect," I grin.

"Okay . . . just making sure. You were going to burn a hole in me,"

I fake a laugh, "Haha, very funny."

Oh my, I really need to get my head together. There is no time for me to imagine him naked or on top of me, doing unspeakable things. We have just met and we're trying to know each other better, I have to stop thinking about how perfect he would be shirtless or better, naked. It's distracting and it's not the time to even have these thoughts.

"I guess it's getting late," He continues to speak, looking around.

All of a sudden, my mother shows up at the door which causes both Damon and I to turn around. She has a smile plastered on her face as I keep throwing signs at her so that she would not embarrass me any further, "Damon . . . you should probably stay the night. It's getting pretty late," She says.

I furrow my brows in confusion, "Ma?"

Is the woman standing at the door, really my mother? The exact same woman that gave birth to me or is it really just someone else? I can't seem to remember if she has ever invited Eric to stay the night when he first came over. It was always sneaking him in and of course, she knew everything—she just decided not to say a word about it. It was endless sessions of sneaking Eric inside the house or just letting him come over when the house is empty, it was more endless Netflix and Chill.

"Well . . . the road down there can get really dark especially this late at night." She adds.

"I don't want to intrude—"

Damon is being cut off by mama replying, "—nonsense. Please, you're our guest. Besides, we have plenty of empty rooms and I don't really see my daughter as a child, I wouldn't mind her bringing her boyfriend into her room."

"Ma! Please," I groan, feeling embarrassed.

"What? You're twenty-four, clearly an adult. I don't want to pretend that you're a virgin when I know, that was long, long gone." She continues to speak which causes me to scoff in disbelief as Damon listens, glancing at my direction with a playful smirk plastered on his face.

"Okay, I think that's enough embarrassment for tonight. You're staying," I fake a smile, pulling Damon by the hand as we walk back inside the house.

"Goodnight, you two!"

My mother's voice continues to disappear into the echo as we both walk up the stairs. Damon is not muttering a single word until we stop in front of my bedroom door, not taking another second to wait as I push the door open—continuing to pull him inside. My mother can be very irritating at times and I know too well that she enjoys seeing me in pain, literally loves it when I'm red.

"I'm sorry . . . that was really stupid," I groan.

"Don't worry about it," He chuckles. "I find her to be very—"

I cut him off, "—weird? Way out of line?"

"I was going to say, direct." He replies.

We both continue to stare at one another as I sit onto the edge of my bed, sighing. My heart feels like it's going to thump out of my chest and my brain feels like it's going to explode—my mother is a chaotic woman or maybe, she just loves to mess around with me. I'm her only child, she wishes to see me struggle with her own uncontrollable attitude.

"So . . . you had a boyfriend?" He asks, breaking the silence.

I blink, "It was way before you."

"If you don't mind me asking, what was his name?"

A swift memory of my past relationship passes by, "Eric."

He nods, "Things didn't work out well?"

For once, he sounded as if he was really concern. The way he uttered those words and just looked like he cared, I come to believe he might actually want to know more. After all, I've been listening to his past and even his life, it'd be weird for him to neglect mine. "No,"

"I'm sorry." He replies, looking away.

"Yeah, me too. It was fun while it lasted,"

"Tell me more,"

"About what?"

"About you."

"There's not much about me . . ."

He sits beside me, grabbing my hand. "Pretty sure there is a lot about you,"

I smile, "Yeah, well . . . what do you want to know?"

"How did he break your heart?"

Damon continues to rub his thumb on the back of my hand as we speak, soothing me. "Things were just good for a little while until it wasn't anymore . . . he ended up hurting me and I couldn't handle it. It was really crazy because I couldn't believe what was happening, I was really in love with him and every time he apologised, I kept forgiving him. It was so easy for him to get away with things because I let him,"

He continues to keep quiet, listening as I talk.

"I hated myself back then, for being too vulnerable. I was weak and I was falling apart," I add.

To my surprise, he grabs me by the chin before slowly turning my face. So that, we're eye to eye.

"Don't say that. I don't like hearing it," He says before continuing, "You're an extraordinary woman, Alice. I've never met someone like you and I've lived for centuries—that tells you something," We both chuckle but he seems sincere, too sincere. "You're intelligent, beautiful and funny, you should be able to see the way I look at you. You'd be surprised,"

"You're just trying to be nice," I mutter.

"No, I'm just trying to be honest."

We both stare at each other, feeling the intensity. For once, I feel our hearts connecting into one and it is as if I've been through this moment before, as if I've met him in a different dimension and we went through this magical phase.

"How did he hurt you?" He asks, frowning.

I look away, afraid if he might be able to tell from my eyes even when I know that is impossible. The painful memories has been haunting me for years and I was almost traumatised by it but I moved forward, I kept my head high even when I would fall onto the ground sometimes—it has been awhile since I've talked about Eric, about the mental abuse he put me through. I had always kept it a secret.

"He just . . . said things, it was hard for me." I mutter.

"He didn't abuse you, did he?"

I sigh, looking straight into his dark eyes. "Nonsense. He wasn't all that bad,"

Damon grabs onto my hand, caressing the back of it. "You can always tell me anything and I'd be here to comfort you. If you feel like you need an ear to listen, I'd give mine. If you want a shoulder to cry on, mine's pretty broad." He ends with a smile plastered on his face which causes both of us to chuckle.

Even at times like this, he can still make me smile.

"Right, I can see that." I smile.

"Well, since I'm staying over tonight, is there anything that you've been wanting to do?" He asks, sitting up straight as he raises an eyebrow—widening my eyes as ideas just keep flowing through.

"I was thinking . . ." I trail off, smirking.

Half an hour later, we're both sitting on the floor as we laugh, busy painting our nails. I gently put a red nail polish on his nails as he frowns in fake disgust, not believing that he actually agreed to do this with me even when I only asked once. The red suits him and I'm literally having the best time of my life at the moment.

"Out of the many colours you could choose for me, it'd be red?" He asks, laughing.

"It suits you, Damon."

"Well, make em' pretty."

"I'm trying! Don't move too much," I groan.

Damon continues to stay still, trying his hardest not to move even when I know he wants to keep looking at his nails—it seems as if he doesn't trust me much with the colour but he trusts me enough to let me paint them. It takes me awhile to realise that he has been staring at me instead of at his nails but I'm too busy making sure they come out perfect.

Truth be told, I can even feel him staring at me.

I look up, meeting his eyes; somehow, they were yellow until they start to turn brown again.

"You okay?" I ask, smiling.

"Y—yeah, I'm good. I was just looking at you," He replies, honestly.

I lean back, feeling my cheeks heating up. "Why? Something on my face?"

"No, nothing. You're just really beautiful," He answers.

I continue to smile, trying to hide my face away but he won't stop looking. My heart wouldn't even stop beating fast and I just know, his sincerity has caused my own body to feel on fire—the good kind of flame to let me feel the intensity. "Stop . . . don't, don't say that. You're making me blush,"

"I'm sorry. Isn't that a good thing?" He raises an eyebrow, smiling back.

"You're making me think that you really like me."

"I really do like you, Alice."

"Damon . . ."

He clears his throat, "I know we just met and I know how different our world is especially after you found out about me—I want you to know that I'm willing to follow your phase, as slow as you want. If you want us to remain as friends and I'd go with the flow. I wouldn't want to rush you or make you feel uncomfortable,"

I blink a few times, not knowing what I feel.

"It's just . . . weird how honest you are with me,"

"I don't understand—"

I cut him off, "—nothing. I just—I'll finish this,"

I continue to paint his nails without looking back up at his face and he seems to respect my space as he keeps quiet, continuing to look at me with a confused look. The way he let out those words were very overwhelming and I'm left dumbfounded.